


knew it wasn't ever after

by lady_krysis (saekhwa)



Category: Bitch Slap (2010), Death Proof (2007)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Canon Character of Color, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, F/F, Female Character of Color, Female Characters, Female-Centric, Id Fic, Interracial Relationship, POV Character of Color, POV Female Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-01
Updated: 2014-08-01
Packaged: 2018-02-11 08:09:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2060541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saekhwa/pseuds/lady_krysis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Camero has her fucked up way, and Abernathy has hers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	knew it wasn't ever after

**Author's Note:**

> One of my narrative kinks is serial killers in love, and I don't see it as much in femslash. Hence this crossover id fic.

Abernathy— Fuck. She's starting to think this is too fucked up. 

~*~

Camero presses her down to the bed with a thrust of her bony hips. Abernathy goes. There's no place else. She could roll maybe. Off to the side. Maybe avoid—

Camero's fingers dig into her chin and jerk her head up. "Eyes on me, sweet tits."

"Don't—"

"Don't _what_?" The blade is dull.

The edge is sharp as it slices through Abernathy's shirt, but the color of it … She used to think those things gleamed. She used to think murderers had dull, flat eyes, but Camero's are bright and her teeth gleam as they close around Abernathy's nipple. 

Abernathy always holds her breath. Today, tonight, this hour, this minute—

There's nothing but the slickness of Camero's tongue on her skin. And the knife. There's always the knife.

~*~

Abernathy wonders if Kim and Zoe gave her a taste for blood. That driver. The stuntman. He was so fucked up. He'd tried to kill them, and it had felt so damn good kicking his teeth in, kicking them out until he'd curled in on himself and whimpered. Until he'd choked, begging for the mercy he was never going to show them. 

Watching Camero is different. The bitch is fucking crazy but so steady with her hands. 

"One slice, two slice, three slice, four." 

Abernathy silently sings along but doesn't watch. 

~*~

Camero grinds against her. Camero rubs herself all over Abernathy and then licks all that wetness off of Abernathy's skin. Abernathy doesn't close her eyes anymore, because if she doesn't watch, she thinks she's bleeding. It's stupid. Camero only goes for the—

~*~

"I'm not fucking doing that," Abernathy says, and shoves the knife away only for Camero to slap it into her hand.

"Time to pony up and ride."

"No."

Camera looks at her, teeth gleaming, and smirks. "Such a softie. Such a soft bitchy clit-tease."

But she takes the knife away, turns her back to Abernathy, and Abernathy watches — one, two, three, four fingers gone.

~*~

When it finally comes down to it, Abernathy hotwires a car. Zoe and Kim were full of all sorts of tricks if anyone paid attention. Being a makeup artist gives Abernathy a great eye for detail. 

Details like that drunk asshole stumbling out of the bar after her, calling her names that make her head ring, because she has her jaw clenched so tight. The car rumbles, and she smacks the steering wheel with the heel of her palm, appreciates the car's grunt when she shifts it in gear. She didn't want a purr, because she's not going to slink her way into this. 

She punches out, and the tail end of the car almost slips out from under her. More acceleration, like Kim taught her, and she's got it on the road, beelining toward home. She revs past his bitch-ass car and takes a side road, waits with the lights off. Abernathy gave him too much credit thinking he was drunk. He was just an asshole, and the car jerks forward, rams straight home. 

Her chest hurts, but she gets out of the car first, hears him groaning for help. He whines like that fucking stuntman when Abernathy hauls him out of the car, when she slams her boot into his groin and then his foul fucking mouth again and again and again. He wheezes, hands raised, but those break, too. Abernathy has shit-kicking boots, good leather, a heel that can crack bones. He's splatter on asphalt and a twitching pile of shit. 

"Fuck yeah, sugar vaj, that's how you like it, huh?"

Abernathy whirls and sees Camero perched on the ruined hood of the dickhead's car. She hops down, steps through him, and grabs Abernathy, kisses her hard. 

"Don't call me that." 

Camero never listens. 

They go back to the hotel, but Abernathy insists on showering first. She can't— With someone else all over her like this. Camero can't even wait for the pink water to clear the drain before she's shoving Abernathy against the wall, though. She fucks Abernathy with three fingers, so fucking rough, so fucking _constant_ , but Abernathy moans, breath a tight gasp coming up raw, the flat of the knife like the flat of Camero's tongue just what Abernathy needs against her bruises.


End file.
